Spain's old vines. Where the future lies in the past.

Why Spain has so many old vines

Spain has more land under vine than any other country, yet it is only the world's third-largest producer after Italy and France. Many vines grow in harsh conditions, at low density or at altitude, and old vines naturally give lower yields. Host Peter Richards, who once worked a vintage with old Mencía vines in Castilla y León, and Paz Levinson explore regions where pioneers have turned that heritage into great wine.

You will see the idea on labels in several languages: Vieilles Vignes in French, Alte Reben in German and Viñas Viejas in Spanish.

Toro: taming the wild horse

Toro, in Castilla y León on the Duero, has been known for big reds for as long as records exist. Its grape, Tinta de Toro, shares its DNA with Tempranillo but has adapted to hotter, harsher conditions with smaller bunches, smaller berries and much thicker skins. The result is inky color and concentrated black cherry, dark cacao and anise. Vineyards sit at roughly 600 to 800 meters, and new French or American oak often adds weight.

Toro has many old bush vines, and thanks to sandy soils more than half of its vineyard area is planted on its own roots, rare in Europe since phylloxera. Some vines predate phylloxera. Manuel Fariña, whose bodega dates from 1942, is credited with bringing the region to world attention. Peter sets Paz a blind challenge: can she tell Toro from Rioja? Watch how she uses color, fruit and tannin to decide.

Bierzo: Mencía and Godello

In the northwest corner of Castilla y León, on the edge of Galicia, Bierzo grew alongside the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage route. Mencía, once wrongly thought to be related to Cabernet Franc, was revived in the 1990s, and Álvaro Palacios, already a pioneer in Priorat, launched a project here in 1999. Bierzo reds are fresh and elegant, with natural high acidity, dark fruit such as blueberry, herbal notes of mint and thyme, and an earthy, gravelly minerality.

The white grape to know is Godello, which was almost abandoned in the 1960s before local winemakers brought it back. Expect grapefruit, quince, apricot and, in the best examples, a smoky minerality.

Jumilla and the Canary Islands

In Murcia in the southeast, Jumilla grows Monastrell, a thick-skinned, slow-ripening, almost certainly Spanish grape. The continental climate is hot, but Mediterranean air, limestone and sandy soils and altitudes of 400 to 800 meters help. Jumilla escaped phylloxera in the 19th century, only to be struck in 1989. Red and rosé Jumilla Monastrell must contain at least 80% of the variety, giving deep, tannic wines with blackberry, plum, black pepper, licorice and a gamey note. Paz pours a Monastrell from Bodegas Juan Gil with a simple tapa of toasted bread, tomato and Murcia al Vino, a goat cheese washed in red wine.

On Tenerife, vines have never had phylloxera, so some are among the oldest in Spain. Volcanic soils around Mount Teide give mineral, salty wines. The three Listán grapes dominate: Listán Negro, Listán Blanco (Palomino Fino) and Listán Prieto, known as País in Chile.

The old vine experiment and blind tastings

So do old vines make better wine? The episode explains the vine's life cycle: low yields in the first years, a productive peak, then a gradual decline while roots grow ever deeper. Peter climbs a ladder to show just how long an old vine's root can be, and the hosts mix three concoctions of increasing intensity to test whether more is always better. Find out what conclusion they reach.

Each host also tastes a red blind and must name the region and judge whether it comes from old vines. The final pairing is a hearty chorizo and lentil stew with smoked paprika.